


Your Friendly Neighborhood Incubus

by Whosdaboss4



Series: The Lannister Clan [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But I'm not sure how to classify the consent if one person is dead, Canon Compliant, Consensual Non-Consent, Dead man pining, F/M, Flirting, Jaime missing Ser Brienne like crazy, Jaime's spirit is stuck, Lite crack, Out of Character, Pining, Smut, This is a weird one, lite fluff, out of character because they are descendants of show GOT characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 03:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whosdaboss4/pseuds/Whosdaboss4
Summary: According to wikipedia, an incubus is a demon in male form who, according to mythological and legendary traditions, lies upon sleeping women in order to engage in sexual activity with them.  Salacious tales of incubi (plural of an incubus) have been told for many centuries in traditional societies. Some traditions hold that repeated sexual activity with an incubus may result in the deterioration of health, mental state, or even death.None of that happens here... Except for the sex and questioning of an otherwise healthy mental state.  No death, except for the already dead.Then it's uplifting at the end.





	Your Friendly Neighborhood Incubus

**Author's Note:**

> King Bran re-establishes House Mormont with some minor Northern lords and any Wildlings that were interested. Tormund Mormont is a descendant of those people. 
> 
> Keep music is like House (EDM) music.
> 
> The University of the Crownlands at King's Landing (UCKL) is nicknamed Buckle: bUCKLe. Got it, good. : )
> 
> This is a weird one and kind of all over the place, but it's Halloween. It's not scary though.

The first time it happens, Brienne thinks she is having a very vivid erotic dream. It seems like her dream lover touches her everywhere at once. Mouth and hand and cock everywhere. It’s too much, but oh sooo good. She peaks over and over. 

His body is muscular and toned and powerful. His eyes are so green. Greener than the meadows on Tarth. And he smells earthy and musky. A manly scent. It is intoxicating. His mummered sweet nothings are both tantalizing and tender. 

“Do you miss my cock, My Lady?” Dream Lover purrs as he thrusts deep inside of her. Her long legs are locked behind his back.

She groans at the sensation of being filled so completely. The fingers of her left hand are furiously raking through his sweaty blond tresses. Her right hand is clutching at his back as she holds on for dear life and meets him thrust for thrust. 

“Yesss. Please…. “ she begs.

“Oh...I...always...aim...to...please...you...my...beauty. I’ve...waited...so...long...” Dream Lover grunts as each word is punctuated by his hips slamming into hers. And suddenly their rhythm becomes erratic; then he’s coming with a shout and spills inside of her. She peaks yet again. 

He collapses fully on top of her and mutters, “I’ve missed you so much, Brienne.”

She wakes up.

**********

She thinks nothing of it. She’s still a virgin, so she figures it’s her horny body playing tricks on her. She’s been pleasuring herself since she’s hit puberty, but lately it hasn’t been enough. At 20, she’s a late bloomer when it comes to sex with another person. At least according to her friends, especially Margaery - who lost her virginity at 15. 

Brienne can’t imagine actually fucking a boy when she was 15. One, she was such a weirdo at that age (well, she still is a weirdo) with her obsession with swords, knights and medieval Westerosi history. And two, she was/is built like a linebacker. The fragile egos of boys that age didn’t lend to her having any interested suitors because she was bigger than them. All of them. And three, she wasn’t gifted with a pretty face. 

Freckles scattered haphazardly everywhere (literally everywhere) like a poor imitation of an abstract expressionist painting. Nose broken a couple of times from fighting those boys with those fragile egos. Mouth wide and lips thick and swollen. And if not for modern orthodontics, her teeth would have been crooked and her top teeth bucked. But her eyes, oh her eyes are beautiful...songs and sonnets should be written about them. Now, blue eyes are common in Westeros. But her eyes are deep, ocean blue. And her gaze could peer into another’s soul. That’s if she actually looked into another’s eyes. She was tall and she was made to feel inferior because she was tall; so she looked down a lot. As one can guess, high school wasn’t fun for her.

But big cities are more open to “unusual” people. After a couple of double takes at her tall and bulky form, King’s Landers look away and keep it moving. They don’t have time or care to comment on her appearance. It’s the city that never sleeps and it’s fast paced, to say the least. So when Brienne starts her undergraduate studies at UCKL (University of the Crownlands at King’s Landing - nicknamed Buckle), she finds that others didn’t regard her as that unusual after all. She’s just a tall, big girl from the Stormlands. 

Her height and unusual looks, got her positive attention too. First, there is Tormund Mormont or TorMor. The met in first year Westerosi lit class. He was sitting directly in front of her in the lecture hall. He had earbuds on blast to some old school Keep music. Heavy beats and heavier synthesizer. And he was hunched over his desk - sound asleep. When the singing started, it sounded like a woman wailing about unrequited love: “I NEEEED YOUR LOVE....” The music was that loud. 

Brienne tapped him on his shoulder and he woke up with loud ”What?!” Everyone looked at him and giggled. He reached for his phone and turned the music down. Once everyone focused back on the lecture, he turned around and looked at Brienne. Up and down. Then he smiled.

He has curly, fire red hair, hazel eyes and a friendly face. Broad shoulders. Brienne thought, _not bad_. Until he spoke.

“Hey, I wish you would wake me up every morning,” he whispered with raises eyebrows. 

Brienne winced. 

“Shouldn’t I get to know you first…” Brienne whispered back dryly.

He extended a meaty hand. “Tormund Mormont, pre-med, at your service. Everyone calls me TorMor. But you can call me anything you want...at anytime.”

Brienne thought, _Pre-med?? A doctor?? He looks like a human party bus, complete with strobe lights and stripper poles._

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Brienne Tarth. I’m a history and Westerosi literature dual major. Nice to meet you,” Brienne said while shaking TorMor’s extended hand.

They become fast friends. He’s harmless, he’s protective of all his female friends, he’s fun and he helps Brienne get a job as a waitress/go-go dancer. TorMor is a DJ. A very good one. He spins at a local club called The Holdfast not far from campus. They needed wait staff. Brienne needed money. They paid well plus tips. What TorMor didn’t tell her is that wait staff took turns dancing in the go-go cages if customers aren’t in there. The arsehole didn’t even ask if Brienne could dance. She could well enough. But he should have warned her. 

Luckily, since the club is near the university, there are always plenty of drunk students (male and female) willing to embarrass themselves in the cages. But one night, the day after homecoming when most students are nursing hangovers, Brienne decides to pick up a shift. She expected it to be quiet. It was, but there were a few patrons. No one was dancing, even though the music was great. It wasn’t TorMor spinning that night. He’d DJ’d at a frat party the night before and was wiped out. It was a pretty platinum blonde woman - DJ Khaleesi. 

Her boss, Brandon walked up to her. She knew what was coming. She’d avoided it for 2 months. 

“Tarth, let’s see what you got,” Brandon said while pointing to a nearby cage - the creepy bastard. There isn’t a dress code per se for the wait staff. Not like there was at Silk Street (another club down the strip from The Holdfast) with their barely there clothing. Brandon didn’t care what the wait staff wore as long as it was cool and grungy. So that night, Brienne had on a cropped t-shirt with a flannel shirt covering it. She had on torn-up skinny jeans full of holes with tights underneath. And her favorite combat boots. 

She sighed, put down her tray and got into the cage. DJ Khaleesi’s skill made it easy to get into a groove. Even though the club was nearly empty, Brienne was still a little self conscious. She thought about her father walking into the club at that very minute. _ He would drag me out of here_, Brienne almost laughed to herself. 

And that’s the night, she met Jaime. But of course, it went to shit just before that happened.

She was dancing away and hears catcalls. She focuses out into the darkness and as the strobe lights flash toward a table near the dance floor, she sees them. Two drunk frat boys pointing at her with amusement. 

Darkness and flash: One of them screams, “Look ...there’s a pig in a cage…” Darkness and flash: The other just throws his head back and laughs loudly. 

She rolled her eyes and then glared at them. And then darkness and flash: there’s a tall, strapping man at their table. Darkness and flash: the man punches the loudmouth. Darkness and flash: the man is dragging both the loudmouth and his buddy by their collars toward the door. The tall man is not the bouncer, Bronn. Brienne jumps out of the cage to see what happened. By the time she reached the door, the tall man almost walks right into her. He’s almost her height and well built. Very well built. He gently grabs her by her arms. 

“I took care of those assholes. You okay?” Mystery Man asked with a deep rumbling voice.

“Um, yeah. It is just words. You know?” Brienne answered. It wasn’t just words. It’s never just words, but acknowledging that type of bullshit only makes it worse. Unless you fight and she’s had her share of fights back home. 

“No, that shit is unacceptable. You’re a lady and should be treated as such,” Mystery Man said. Then he smiled and the heavens opened up with singing and rejoicing. He was fucking gorgeous. Even in the darkness of the club, she could tell he was beautiful. 

His hair was darkish. And his were eye light. Green maybe. His jawline was so sharp as if it were sculpted by the finest artisans. And he had dimples. Not the deep kind that look like sinkholes on the face, but the slight kind that barely hollows the cheeks. His lips were perfectly shaped and full. 

She must have been gawking at him because he looked down slightly embarrassed. Then she looked down. Thank the Gods for the darkened club, because she knew she her face was redder than a steamed Blackwater lobster. And then he let go of her arms. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, um...what’s your name?” he asked. His voice was deep and smooth. Like a warm, honeyed wine. 

“Brienne...Brienne Tarth. Yes, I am okay. Thank you. What’s your name?” Brienne asked back slightly stuttering.

“Jaime. Jaime Stark,” Mystery Man, now Jaime answered. 

They stood there silently for a moment. Brienne bit her lip and smiled nervously at him. Then they spoke at once. 

“No, you first,” Brienne says. She just wanted to keep talking to him.

“So are you a student at Buckle?” Jaime asked. 

“Yes, you?” Brienne said.

“Yes, Journalism major. You?” Jaime replied.

“History and Lit major,” Brienne said.

“Wow, cool… I have a proposal for you...” Jaime said suddenly. 

“Um, sure. What is it?” Brienne asked curiously.

“Pose for me. I’m a photographer. I just need to shoot you. You are...unique and cool…and cute,” Jaime said. Brienne rolled her eyes.

“It’s legit. It’s respectable and artsy. Fully clothed. No funny business. And I can pay you,” Jaime explained. 

“You’re a college student. How in the hell can you pay me?” Brienne asked. 

Well, Brienne found out that Jaime Stark is actually Jaime Lannister-Stark of the extremely wealthy Lannister-Stark family. Also known as the Winterfell Lannisters. So he COULD pay her. And so that’s how Brienne became a go-go dancer and model and muse (and fell in love with the very handsome Jaime Lannister-Stark)...the tall, big girl from the Stormlands. So her college life became nothing like she expected. Except, she is still a virgin 2 years after her college life starts. That was one thing she expected. Except when she became the lover of a dead man.

**********

The second time it happens, it is just as intense. Rougher. But she is more active in the experience. She took her Dream Lover’s large cock in her mouth. And sucks and licks and swallows him dry. She loves it. The smell of him and his seed dripping down her chin. The power it gave her to have this handsome man whimpering at her ministrations. She rode him when they coupled this time. She enjoys this position as much as him being on top. His rough pubic hair rubs against her clit. And the angle that his cock hits a spot deep inside that made her come several times. She can’t even scream, she just shudders wildly and moans. Finally, she collapses onto him in exhaustion.

“You are getting better at his, Wench?” Dream Lover purrs. Then he sucks hard on her throat. Her eyes roll back into her head in ecstasy. He flips her over and shoves his cock into her still throbbing core. 

But that’s when she first suspects something is amiss. Why would her mind create a pet name “Wench”? She would never call herself that. She wouldn’t want a lover to call her that. But she is so sated and relaxed, she falls asleep. 

When she wakes up the next morning, she notices a few things. Her pussy is sore like she actually fucked someone. And her room smells like something she’s never smelled before. Like...semen. Maybe? She walks into the bathroom, looks at the mirror and notices the hickey… on her throat. She recoils in horror and rushes back into the bedroom. There’s not one piece of evidence anyone else has been in her room or bed. Nor any evidence throughout her studio apartment. 

She thinks she is either losing her mind or someone is drugging her, slipping into her flat and fucking her. Both scenarios scare her shitless, but what else could be happening. She thinks the latter is more plausible. Still, she goes to the free clinic (in Flea Bottom, not on campus) to get tested - just in case. Fortunately, she’s clean and not pregnant. So, now she knows she needs to talk to a counselor on campus to figure out what the fuck is going on with her. Is she having a psychotic break? Or is it manic episode and she’s bringing random strangers to her flat and letting them fuck her senseless. Or what?

She plans to spend the next few days until her appointment in her flat. No class, no work, nothing. She is scared and anxious. She tries to stay awake and is successful for the first 24 hours. The next night, she inevitably falls asleep. 

The dreaming starts again. Dream Lover is spooning behind her. Just holding her. It feels warm and wonderful. Brienne feels oddly comfortable. 

Dream Lover is stroking her hair and cooing in her ear. “Wench, you’ve got to take care of yourself. You need to sleep. You’re a student. You..”

Brienne is determined to face her situation head on until she can talk to a counselor. She sits straight up in bed (_fuck, I’m naked_, she thinks. _ When did I take my clothes off_?) and pinches her arm - hard. It hurt, so she’s awake. Then she slaps Dream Lover as hard as she can. SMACK. She hit flesh. 

“OWWWW! What the fuck? Why’d you hit me?” Dream Lover shouts rubbing his cheek as he sits up in bed. 

Brienne is in shock for two seconds, then she screams a blood curdling scream. Then she grabs the baseball bat she keeps next to the bed (a single girl can’t be too careful), raises it at Dream Lover’s head and swings. Dream Lover has quick reflexes and he swings his right arm over his head just as the bat makes contact with his arm. CRACK. Brienne quickly notices he doesn’t have a right hand. 

“FUUUUCK...are you crazy? Are all women as crazy in this strange time?” Dream Lover howls. Then he starts hissing and grabbing his right arm. 

“CRAZY...You are in my flat, in my bed... touching me….FUCK. Who are you? You’ve been drugging me and EWWWWWW….you sick shit….you sit your ass right there and I’m calling the Gold Cloaks you sick fuck….” Brienne shrieks. Brienne raises the bat again to strike. Dream Lover winces, but gets out of the bed with his hands up. He’s naked too. Brienne wants to faint. But she only retches. 

“Brienne, please… let me explain. Put the wooden sword down as I you see I’m unarmed. Look, I’m not... I’m not a...sick shit. I’m your husband, well…not exactly, but…I was going to be...” Dream Lover speaks quickly.

“How the fuck do you know my name, you piece of crap?” Brienne counters angrily. 

“Please, just listen wench...” Dream Lover implores. At the word “wench”, Brienne raises the bat again. 

“Brienne...” Dream Lover corrects. “Brienne, please listen. I won’t hurt you. I can’t hurt you. Please sit with me on this...this very comfortable bed…” Dream Lover sits back on the bed. His cock is just out for all to see. He has no shame to try to cover it. 

Brienne just stands at attention, scowling and ready to strike. But for some reason she wants to hear his what he has to say. To make sense of this before she bashes his skull in. 

Dream Lover smiles and looks at her wistfully. “You are so much like her. My almost wife. But in true Jaime Lannister fashion, I fucked it up.”

He continues after a beat. “That’s why I’m here and I made love to you. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I’ve waited for so long. And you are the first Brienne to be so much like her. And from Tarth no less. And living in the capital. I couldn’t help it.” He looks away sadly. 

Brienne breathing quickens. She feels lightheaded. “Who. The. Fuck. Are. You? And why do you know so much about me?” Brienne hisses.

Dream Lover stands and bows. 

“Ser Jaime Lannister at your service my lovely lady,” Ser Jaime says proudly as he reaches for Brienne’s hand. His bow puts him at eye level to her breasts and suddenly she realizes she’s still naked. She quickly reaches for her robe at the foot of her bed. Ser Jaime stands up and watches her. She tosses it over her shoulders and puts each arm through by switching the bat from hand to hand. She ties it while still gripping the bat with her right hand. 

Ser Jaime smiles again. “You’re so coordinated. Just like she was.” he sighs.

Brienne raises an eyebrow. He’s obviously insane thinking he’s a Ser. There haven’t been Knights in Westeros for hundreds of years. 

“Ser...Jaime, how do you know so much about me?” Brienne asks cautiously. 

“I dreamed of you. Missed you. Waited for you. Time passed and passed and I thought I lost my chance to hold you again. To touch you. To love you. To look into those beautiful eyes again. I ached for you. And suddenly, there you were. You’re so much like her...my Brienne.”

He spoke in riddles, but then something clicks in her brain. Ser Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth. Ser Brienne of Tarth. The first female Knight. Veteran of the alleged Long Night. The Grandmother of Modern Westeros. The most famous matriarch in all of Westeros history. And betrothed to the tragic Kingslayer, Ser Jaime Lannister. She’s seen portraits of Ser Brienne of Tarth in the museum on Tarth and in King’s Landing. Brienne is obviously a descendant of hers. People always said she looked just like her. Well, Brienne Tarth’s blonde is a touch darker. But other that that, it’s like she’s the reincarnated Ser Brienne. 

Brienne’s eyes widens and looks at the naked man on her bed. “You think I’m Ser Brienne of Tarth and you the Kingslayer….” she spat out. Brienne looks for her phone. It’s next to the crazy man sitting on her bed.

“I am...was the Kingslayer, but I was Jaime, just Jaime to her...my Brienne. You see, I know you aren’t her. That is a long time ago...By the way, what year is this?” Ser Jaime asks. 

She thinks, _he’s just a crazy man who thinks he’s a famous Knight who’s been mysteriously breaking into my LOCKED fifth floor walk-up apartment who leaves no traces of his ever being there and….OH SHIT_!

Brienne starts to tremble, but she answers. “It’s 2019...AC.”

“2019 AC... AC...so they still count the passage of time based off the fucking Targaryens, ay?” Ser Jaime drawls. “So it’s been about 1700 years since my Brienne and I walked this earth.” 

Brienne drops the bat and sits next to Ser Jaime on the bed. 

“So, I’ve been fucking a ghost. I’ve lost my virginity to a fucking ghost. I am losing my mind. I don’t understand...” Brienne says quietly staring into space. She lays her head on Ser Jaime’s shoulder. He wraps her arm around her waist and then kisses her temple. 

“Not a ghost...an incubus…but a friendly one. Normally an incubus is a nasty, mean thing...all cock and teeth. But as I said, I could never hurt you. I only wanted to be with you...her...again,” Jaime says sadly. 

Brienne looks at his face. “How...how is this possible?” she asks. 

“I’m not sure. I thinks it’s because how I left things when I died. I shouldn’t have died with my sister under the Red Keep. I should have stayed with Brienne...like she asked…” Jaime said angrily. 

“I’m a history major. I know what happened to you at the end the Two Queens’ War…” Brienne said weakly. 

“Well I’m sorry, do you have somewhere else to be?” Ser Jaime asks incredulously. Then he looks at Brienne and smiles. 

“Ah, we used to verbally spar just like this...It is so…” Ser Jaime said. 

Brienne leans away from him, “Please, Ser Jaime...why is this happening?” 

He straightens up and sighs. 

“When you know are about to die, you consider all you biggest regrets. In an instant. My regrets: One, dying in the bowels of that musty old keep with my sister. It was stupid, Impulsive and fucking stupid. Two, if it was fated for me to die with Cersei in that musty old keep; I should have married Brienne in Winterfell. I wanted to wait for Lord Selwyn and Tyrion to be there and… I should have taken her to the Godswood and married her before I left. I left her without giving her my name and any heirs...”

Brienne opens her mouth to interject, but he kept talking, “And three, I shouldn’t have fucking left her. So, 2019 AC Brienne Tarth, I guess my spirit is stuck - in between the Seven Heavens where I’m sure my Brienne is resting peacefully and the Seven Hells where I hope Cersei and Tywin and Robert and all those other arseholes are in perpetual torment. Which one I belong in, I don’t know. It’s up to the Gods. While I’ve waited, I’ve looked for a woman like my Brienne, to ease my loneliness...to help me forget my regrets until I can rest or be tormented,” Ser Jaime ends mournfully. 

“And here you are,” Brienne finishes. 

“And here I am...but I don’t know how it all works...physically. I was never that smart. Now if my brother were here, he could…” Ser Jaime says.

“Yes, that’s right. Lord Tyrion Lannister was your brother. He was known to be such a wit. I’ve read some of this published personal journals in high school...” Brienne said excitedly. 

“Yes, my brother…Hey, you’re making me a little jealous 2019 AC Brienne...No, that’s too much. New Brienne… that’s better,” Ser Jaime says. 

“No, just Brienne...please…” Brienne says rolling her eyes. She tosses Ser Jaime her pajama pants that he obviously tossed onto the bed when he undressed her earlier. He stood and slid them on. Brienne blushes as she caught a glimpse of his flaccid, yet still impressive manhood. _Ser Brienne of Tarth, you were one lucky lady_, she thought. Just then, her cell phone rings. Her ringtone is one of TorMor’s original creations, but the face on the screen is Jaime Stark...her Jaime. Well, not yet. But hopefully someday, her Jaime. 

Ser Jaime almost jumps out of his skin - if that is even possible - at the loud sound. 

“That the fuck is that?” he shouts. 

“My phone….” she answers. She takes in his confused expression and continues to explain. “It’s like...like sending a raven, but it’s instantaneous and you can hear the sender’s voice.”

“NO SHIT?” Ser Jaime asks disbelieving. Brienne nods and raises her fingers to her lips and then answers putting Jaime Stark on speaker. 

Jaime: Hey, Brie. You okay? I was looking for you yesterday and the day before. You just disappeared. You didn’t answer my calls and texts. I was going to break into your flat to check on you if you didn’t answer this time. Thank the Gods you’re okay. TorMor, Margaery and Sans are worried too. 

Brienne: Hey, Jaime. Yeah, I’m okay. I’m sorry I ghosted like that. I was just worn out. I had a lot going on. 

Ser Jaime is mesmerized...but smirks at Brienne’s reply. Worn out indeed. He peeks over at Brienne’s phone looking at the young man’s handsome portrait and reads a name “Jaime”. It sends his eyebrows up into his hairline. 

Jaime: So can I still stop by? I just want to tell everyone I laid eyes on you. Sans was getting ready to call Renly and the Gold Cloaks.

Ser Jaime mouths “Renly Baratheon?” Brienne shakes her head. 

Brienne: Yeah sure. Give me an hour. I have to clean up a bit. See you soon. 

Jaime: Okay… Brie, I’m just glad you’re okay. You...you’re important to me...Um, to us. I..we were so worried. Ugh...Sorry. See you soon. 

Jaime Stark hangs up. 

Ser Jaime asks, “So there’s a Renly Baratheon in this time, too?”

“No, not to my knowledge. Could be. But that Renly is my dad. Renly Tarth…” Brienne replies. Ser Jaime just nods his head in awe. “Renly is still a very popular name in the Stormlands…”

Ser Jaime cuts her off while pointing at the phone in her hand. 

“So that Jaime...who is he...to you? He looks like a Lannister, but his hair is a bit too dark… He sounds very smitten with you. But too shy to admit it…” Ser Jaime asks.

“Well, he’s...he’s my friend...and he’s a Stark…” Brienne stammers and blushes.

Ser Jaime’s jaw just drops. “A Stark...named Jaime? Oh, I am speechless. Oh, if only Ned and Catelyn Stark knew this...” he gloats.

Brienne smirks. “Actually, his full name is Jaime Lannister-Stark…”

“THE FUCK... Now, I’m confused,” Ser Jaime says sitting down on the bed.

Brienne sits with him. 

“That’s what I wanted to explain when you are talking about your regrets and not leaving Ser Brienne with your name or heirs…” Brienne says taking Ser Jaime’s stump into her hands. Ser Jaime looks down at their hands and smiles. 

He whispers, “So much like her…”

Brienne starts, “Let me explain. It’s true, Ser Brienne died as Ser Brienne of Tarth, an unmarried woman. But she did leave an heir… your son. I can only assume she didn’t know she was pregnant when you left for here...um, King’s Landing.”

Tears sprung into Ser Jaime’s eyes. “We...we...had a son??” he asks. 

“Yes...a son…Ser Galladon Lannister. King Brandon Stark the Broken, first of his name, legitimized him,” Brienne answers smiling brightly at him.

“Bran became king... ” Ser Jaime asks disbelieving and wiping at his eyes. “What happened to Brienne and to our son?”

“Ser Brienne died peacefully in her sleep in her 80’s with her son, Ser Galladon at her bedside…” Brienne replies. 

Ser Jaime exhales loudly. “And our son...what of him?” Ser Jaime asks impatiently.

Brienne lowers her head slightly, “He died 5 years later at the Battle at Storm’s End. He was about 65 years old. Still fighting.”

“Oh, my son…” Ser Jaime almost swoons. 

“But I didn’t get to tell you the best part, Ser Jaime. Ser Galladon married Princess Jeyne Stark. Princess Jeyne was the daughter of Queen Sansa of the North and Ser Podrick Payne. No record exists on how they met, but it’s assumed that Ser Brienne and Queen Sansa continued to visit each other over the years after the Two Queens’ Wars. So that’s how we think their children met. Ser Galladon and Princess Jeyne had 10 children that lived to adulthood; then those children married into other Westerosi families. Their youngest daughter, Lady Alysanne Lannister, married into a noble Essosi family. My friend Sansa, is a descendant of hers. So...you left Ser Brienne with a..a legacy. She’s called the Grandmother of Modern Westeros. Even Queen Sansa of the North doesn’t get that honor. My Jaime, he’s from the Lannister-Stark line...from the eldest daughter of Ser Galladon, Lady Brienne Lannister. And I’m distantly related to the Lannister-Baratheon line which is from the middle son, Lord Tommen Lannister. The Lannister name survives and thrives to this day all because of you and Ser Brienne. I know you didn’t get to spend a lifetime with her, but what you had mattered.”

Ser Jaime is speechless again. But he looks proud. So proud. Brienne jumps up and walks to her bookshelf. She finds her textbook on Medieval Westeros and starts flipping through it as she walks back to the bed. She sits down and puts the book in Ser Jaime’s lap. The chapter is on the period during the reign of King Bran the Broken. On the page is a picture of the portrait of Ser Brienne in her Kingsguard armor. Standing tall and proud. And so beautiful. 

Ser Jaime looks up at Brienne with fresh tears, mouth agape. His hand brushes across the page with so much love and longing. “My wench…” he says so softly. 

“Yes, Ser Brienne was the first female Lord Commander in Westeros history. There were many after her. She gave up her post after her father, Lord Selwyn of Tarth passed away. She and Ser Galladon, who was no more than 5 years old, moved to Tarth where she became the next Evenstar,” Brienne said. 

Brienne flips a few pages and lands on a portrait of a very tall, handsome, young blond man with his arm around pretty dark-haired woman. “That is your son and his wife. I’m sure this portrait was commissioned for their wedding… From all sources, it truly was a loving marriage.” 

Ser Jaime leans forward and looks at the page for a long time as tears silently fall. 

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, my boy…” his voice cracks.

Brienne let Ser Jaime peruse the book. She gets up to go take a shower as her Jaime will be there soon. 

“There should be a picture of you in there, Ser Jaime. I think you must have been young. You definitely had both your hands…” Brienne says as she closes the door to her bathroom. 

After a quick shower and getting dressed, she returns to her bed to see Ser Jaime still flipping through the book. 

“Some of this drivel isn’t true...but most of it really happened as it says it does. I had one more question, before your Jaime Stark arrives and I take my leave…” Ser Jaime says. “Are any ladies named Cersei in this time?” 

Brienne shakes her head. “As you can imagine...Cersei isn’t a popular name. But…. I think there is one here in my program. Martell...Cersei Martell… she’s a quiet, mousy thing. A freshman from Dorne…”

Ser Jaime guffaws and falls backwards onto the bed. “Oh, that is perfect. That is worth going to the Seven Hells just to tell my sister that. Cersei Martell...fucking perfect.”

Brienne’s phone buzzes. Ser Jaime jumps and stands up. She looks at her phone to see Jaime’s text stating he is there and on his way up. 

“How do you get accustomed to all the noise…” Ser Jaime says as he embraces Brienne. Then looks deeply into her eyes. Then he nods with an understanding smile.

“Brienne Tarth. I’m sorry...but.. I’m really not sorry. I got to know my...my family. And everything ended up alright. Better than alright. And as for your Jaime...life can be...short and unpredictable. If you want him, have him. If you love him, tell him. Have a happy life with him. Tonight...seduce him. Fuck the honorable Stark-ness right out of him. It’s not like you’re a maid anymore…” Ser Jaime smirks.

Brienne winces a bit, but smirks back. 

“Thank you, I think….” Brienne says back. “I hope you find peace now, Ser Jaime”

Ser Jaime nods, leans to give her a quick kiss on her cheek and backs away. As his body fades away into nothingness, he says, “Well met, Brienne Tarth.”

**********  
Brienne opens the door to see Jaime (her Jaime) standing there. He’s leaning on the door frame attempting to look casual. He rakes his thick fingers through his light brown hair. But concern is writ across his face. Brienne give him a once over. He is absolutely gorgeous. She thinks she will take Ser Jaime’s advice. She pulls him into her flat and wraps her arms around his neck. She kisses him and he kisses her back - passionately. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her against his body. 

After a moment, Jaime pulls back to catch his breath, but he doesn’t let Brienne go. “Not that I’m complaining, but what’s that about? Are you feeling okay?”

Brienne gives him a playful grin. Then she brushes a wisp of hair off his forehead. ‘Never better. There’s something I want to tell you. I love you.”

He grins wide. Then he leans in to kiss her again.


End file.
